Broomsticks and Burly Men
by I HEART JATAE
Summary: Fred's a bit distracted... Fred/Oliver. Rated for language and innuendo.


A/N: This came around when i noticed that there's a serious lack of Fred and George slash out there that isn't twincest, and a serious lack of Oliver slash of any kind. Not much to say. Rowling owns the two cutest boys on the planet, as well as all other characters.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Fred Weasley was spacing out.  
  
Not just the usual, bored, quarter-hour-into-History-Of-Magic spacing out, either. George knew this because Fred didn't space out for more than five or six minutes before he grew bored of out-spacing and started doodling or purposely interpreting everything Binns said as something sexual. When the poltergeist started rambling about the Nordic Gremlins thrusting their swords into the residents of a villiage called Vah-Chyna and Fred hadn't so much as sniggered, George started worrying.  
  
The next thing Fred knew, he was being poked in the side. Hard.  
  
"Ow! What?"  
  
"Bell rang."  
  
"That hurt."  
  
"I know. What were you thinking about?"  
  
Fred shrugged. "Quidditch." Well, it was partially true...  
  
"Well hurry up then, we've got practise."  
  
Fred nearly knocked his chair over, he got up so fast.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Great work, everyone!" Oliver called out to his team as they landed on the wet grass. "Good job, Harry, you're really starting to pick up on your speed. Angelina, we'll have to work on dodging those bludgers, the twins can't always be there to save you. Fred, I need to talk to you."  
  
Fred blinked. What could they possibly have to talk about? They both waited for the rest of the team to retreat to the locker rooms. Oliver just regarded Fred expressionlessly for a few moments before he finally spoke, leaning on the end of his broom.  
  
"What's up with you lately, Fred?"  
  
Fred almost twitched. That was an unbearably loaded question. "What do you mean?"  
  
Oliver quirked an eyebrow. "You weren't doing much beating out there."  
  
This time Fred did twitch. "Was too," he said unconvincingly.  
  
"Angelina got hit four times, Fred!" he hollared, outraged at the lack of apologies and I'll-work-harder-from-now-on promises. "Four bloody times! And poor Katie nearly broke her arm! Where the hell were you?!"  
  
"There's more than two players on the field," he muttered, avoiding eye contact as the Keeper started pacing around him.  
  
"It's completely unacceptable!" he continued, ignoring the defiant protest. Fred could feel a rant coming on. "And that's just when the bludgers are flying around on their own! Imagine when there's another team trying to hit us with them!"  
  
"I'm sorry, alright?" Fred snapped. "My mind was just... elsewhere."  
  
"Where? Up your arse?! Fred, you've got to be alert at all times!"  
  
"You know, some of us find other things more important than Quidditch!"  
  
Oliver's eyes narrowed. Fred flinched-- that was REALLY the wrong thing to say.  
  
"Okay, what is it?" Oliver demanded after a few seconds. "I've seen my teammates acting like this before, and it's always because of either PMS or something really wrong. And I think it's obvious one of them can't be true."  
  
Fred sighed. Oliver waited. "Just because I wasn't protecting the girls doesn't mean I wasn't protecting anyone," he explained.  
  
Oliver blinked. "Your brother can handle himself, Fred."  
  
He shook his head, eyes on the ground. "Not George."  
  
"George had me covered, so... Harry?"  
  
Fred nodded solemnly.  
  
Oliver chuckled. "Christ, you'd think the kid was your own son, you're so protective! Look, Harry's thirteen, and you've got enough other siblings to look out for, so--"  
  
"That's not it, though," Fred interrupted flatly. "I'm not protecting him because I like him as a... a brother."  
  
Oliver hesitated. "A friend, then?"  
  
Fred shook his head again.  
  
"Oh... Oh!" They were quiet for a few seconds. Oliver looked at Fred looking uncomfortable while he looked at the ground. "He's straight, you know," he said softly after a few moments.  
  
"That's what they all say," came the smirky response.  
  
Oliver smiled. "No, I mean I KNOW he is. I've tried."  
  
Fred looked momentarily confused. "Oh? Oh!"  
  
"Yeah, 'oh'," Oliver laughed. "He was okay with it, and I think he's forced it out of his memory enough to still respect me, but he seemed pretty creeped out by it."  
  
"So... you're..."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I never would have thought, you know..."  
  
"Yeah? I thought being obsessed with a sport that involved grabbing balls and riding broomsticks with a bunch of burly men would be a dead give- away."  
  
Fred laughed. "Never thought of it that way."  
  
They stood silently on the grass for a few minutes, each looking at the other while the other was looking away. I light breeze picked up, drying their sweaty hair and cooling their flushed skin. Finally, their eyes met. They didn't look away.  
  
"This is an odd coincidence, you know," Oliver said bemusedly. "Chances are we're half of the gay population in this school. And not only are we both in the same house, we're also both on the Quidditch team, liked the same boy, and know eachother pretty damn well."  
  
"And you'll be gone next year and I'll be left to find the rest of the homosexual populace."  
  
Oliver stepped closer. "I could come back and visit, you know."  
  
Fred's arms slipped around the broad shoulders. "You do that, love."  
  
And when they finally kissed, neither of them noticed the cheers that erupted from the rest of the team, watching from a window in the locker room.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A/N: Yay! It's voyeur!Harry, Alicia, Katie, Angelina, and George! Who do you think the other two gay boys are? *winkwink* Now review, fuel my imagination! 


End file.
